


Felniir

by TheWolfWhoWaited



Series: Sky Above, Voice Within [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, cara also trying to figure that out, ha yeah there smut now tho its not v good, in which we see what happens before the spring thaw, miraak and cara being cute and shit, miraak drinks a whole gallon of respect women juice for breakfast, miraak teaches now and he'd be good at it fight me, miraak trying to figure out how relationships work, smut??? maybe??? we'll see, you can't tell me im wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-10-25 18:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolfWhoWaited/pseuds/TheWolfWhoWaited
Summary: After Miraak and Cara's New Life confessions to one another, there's at least another three months before they can travel across the province again.Miraak teaches, Cara trains, they figure out how their relationship has changed now that they are lovers.Love, it seems, is their newest challenge.





	1. Spaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visitor comes to the College

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! here's a shorter fic that shouldn't be more than 10k at the MOST (hopefully). Just a little interlude of sorts before the next big fic comes up! I'm not sure how often I'll post, as college and all that mess. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!! :)
> 
> Fic title translation: Winter  
Chapter title translation: Shield

“Are there any questions?” The First Dragonborn’s deep baritone voice echoed though the silent room, the lecture hall that made up the top floor of the Hall of Countenance. Cara slipped in silently, crossing her arms and leaning against the cool stone. Miraak’s storm-blue eyes rested on her a second before his attention returned to his class.

A hand went up from a young Apprentice, who had braved the snowstorms of northern Skyrim to join the College the week before. This was likely his first class with the Atmoran.

Miraak inclined his head, crossing his arms, waiting for the lad to speak.

“Er, if you don’t mind me asking, how do you know all this about the Dragon Cult? How did you manage to study all of that so thoroughly?”

Miraak stared at the boy a moment, the fair-haired boy squirming in his seat from his teacher’s intense gaze.

“You are the new _Prustmun_, yes?”

“Um, yes sir.”

“Then you will be quick to learn a few things.” Miraak stood over the boy in his desk, towering above him. “Do not ask stupid questions.”

Cara strode forward, his gaze snapping to hers.

“Karsld, is it?” she asked the boy.

“Yes, Arch-mage.” He replied. The boy was surprised she was there.

Cara turned her attention to Miraak. “_Kent hi gefaas sen?_” she asked him.

His eyes swirled with mischief.

“I know about the intimacies of the Cult because I was a priest in the Cult.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “But-“

“But,” Miraak interrupted, “The Cult died out thousands of years ago, this is true.”

Confusion settled over the lad’s features.

“Is there any more questions before we are done for today?” Miraak asked again. Several hands went up.

“Are there any questions that does not pertain to my position as a Dragon Cult Priest?”

The hands went down.

“Then that will be all.”

He gathered his notes and strode out of the classroom, Cara falling into step beside him.

“If you tell them the truth, they will never question anything you ever say again.” She commented.

“If they cannot figure it out, then they don’t deserve to be scholars.”

“You’re too hard on them.” Her tone was light, a smile playing at her lips. She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow, pulling herself close to him.

“I am harsh so that they learn. They would not last a second under my master.”

“Who taught you?”

“Morokei was First Mage before me.”

“That makes sense. I got the sense he was a harsh man.”

Miraak looked down at her. “Only when he was teaching. Which was always. But how could you have known that?”

“When I had to retrieve the Staff of Magnus, he was in Bronjunnar. As a lich. He spoke to me.”

Cara felt him stiffen, then relax after a second.

“It is good then, that even in death he no longer walks Skyrim. He would likely try and kill me for my betrayal of the _dov_.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What have you to be sorry for? My master died before I was ever in Apocrypha. His soul rests now, if anything I should be thanking you.”

“I-“ Cara stopped herself.

“_Dii kest?”_ he asked after her silence stretched on.

“I have his mask. And the others.”

He hummed. “I suspected you did. There was no other way to get Konahrik without all the priests being present. Or their masks.”

“You can have it, if you want it. Since you knew him.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. He seemed to smile more, after the new year.

“What use do I have of a mask that is not mine? I have mine.”

She smiled at the mention of the mask she had gifted him for the New Life festival. The one she had Eorlund make for him.

“I’m glad you liked it. I wasn’t sure if I was being presumptuous.”

He shook his head. “It feels good to wear a mask again. One that doesn’t signify all those years in Apocrypha.”

They passed though the empty Hall of the Elements, Cara stopping for a second.

“Care to spar a bit?” she asked him.

A blond brow rose. “Is that a challenge, _dii kest?_” A smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I want to see how much I’ve improved. And it’s been a few days.”

“Very well.”

* * *

Cara knew she was improving, that much she was certain. She was blocking far more than getting hit, and she wasn’t losing her balance.

“You learn quickly.” Miraak remarked from several paces away. He always circled her, like a predator, but she never let him out of her sight, her staff ready to deflect his sword swipes.

“I just feel as if something is missing.”

He lowered his blade at her words. “Like what?"

“I’m not sure. I just feel as if this isn’t just _it_. If that makes sense.”

“It does.” A new voice said, both Cara and Miraak whipping around at the sound of the newcomer.

Miraak’s expression hardened. “What do you want?” the Atmoran spat.

The figure was _nearly_ corporeal, though not quite. He was in simple robes, though his deep golden skin, long silver-white hair and silver eyes gave him an otherworldly appearance.

“I had hoped, perhaps a bit too naively, that your hostility, anger, would lessen with time. It seems that is not the case.”

“Who are you? How did you get into the College?” Cara wouldn’t tolerate strangers walking into the College, potentially threatening her Apprentices.

The elf smiled. “Though I come to you in this humble form, I am Auri-El, my child.”

Cara couldn’t believe her eyes. Or her ears. Auri-El? In front of her? Speaking to her?

The god that left Miraak to rot in Apocrypha for four thousand years.

“_How dare you_.” Her Voice shook the room, and she knew it shook the whole College.

The god seemed surprised. “It seems as if my earlier observation still rings true. You are still far too volatile in your affections for him. Though I now believe that it never would have lessened, only grow.”

Cara felt the storm brewing under her skin, and a few sparks jumped off of her in her anger.

“Why are you here?” Miraak asked, taking a step away from her, knowing that there was no stopping her anger now.

“I said that I would speak with Carawen in time. There are events that are being set into motion across all time and space. Things that will require the both of you, together. You are both powerful in your own rights, though, my dear,” he turned his near-white eyes to the fuming Last Dragonborn. “This is the missing piece you are looking for.” He held out his hand, a glittering golden shield appearing in his hand. “This is the Shield of Auri-El, my own shield, from long ago. I’ve changed it a little, though, to fit your style of fighting. And,” he held out his other hand, a long, double-bladed staff manifesting in his other, one of the points resting on the stone floor. “A gift. A weapon that can change and adapt to any form you need it to take on. A weapon worthy of the slayer of my Firstborn.”

She took in a deep breath, and swallowed her Voice. “I don’t want anything from you, after what you did to him.” She spat at the god. Cara surprised herself. She didn’t think she had ever held this much animosity towards someone before. And to a god, no less.

“I understand your anger-“

“No you _don’t!_” the room rumbled again. “You _left him to the mercy of Hermaeus Mora for four thousand years!_”

“_Dii strun._ You will bring the College into the Sea.”

She turned her back for a moment, trying to reign herself in.

“It had to be done. There was no other way to ensure that he would be safe. So that the First and Last could meet. It is all by design.”

She whirled around, her anger now coming off of her in arcs of lightning. 

“Fuck you. Fuck your bullshit reason besides being an absolute bastard for leaving him in Apocrypha. Fuck you _and_ your divine plan.”

The hall was silent, but for the small lightning arcs that were still sparking, and her deep breaths.

The god was silent for a moment, before he chuckled.

“Mara had a hand in your creation, you know. Miraak was too dragon-like. His power too great. So I did not give Alessia a Voice. Reman was like her, but with more the temperament of a dragon. Talos, Talos was too much like Miraak, in the end, though I tempered his Voice. Mankar and Wulfharth, both had different problems of their own. The closest, I think, to the Dragonborn that would be needed is Martin, though he was Dragonblooded. Mara came to me, said I needed to change the fundamentals of the next Dragonborn’s soul, her personality, her being. She needed what the others lacked in the most basic capacity- mercy. There is a reason you are empathic, not just because you are a gifted healer. Your dragon nature overrides your mercy at times, but you are far less a dragon than your predecessors have been, but no less powerful. I created you, but Mara blessed you. It was in that moment, that I placed your soul in that of an Altmer, one born from a loveless marriage, born from thousands of years of magical mastery, I knew you would be the Last.

“I did not enjoy seeing Miraak suffer all that he did for those long years, despite what you think. I felt every bit of pain that he felt. I made sure I did. I would not forget him. I did not forget him. I had no control over who you would become, Carawen. I only kept you from harm, tried to steer you towards what would become your greater destiny. Everything else, was you.

“You both were not meant to fall in love. I was dreading it, in fact, the more you grew into who you are. But I would never stop it. Time has been rewritten because of you both, the end of the Fourth Era coming to a close soon. Because of your love.”

Cara felt her anger fade at the god’s words. She looked away from him, seeking Miraak’s eyes. The Atmoran closed the distance between them, an arm coming around her waist, pulling her close to him.

“Say what you would have me do, and if it can be done, I will do it. A favor from a god.” He was speaking to Miraak.

“Sahrotaar. And the two others that served me in Mora’s realm.”

The god snapped his fingers. “It is done, though Mora will be less than pleased.”

“Carawen, I ask that you accept these,” he held out the spear and shield again. “I give them to you not as a bribe, not as charity, but because you and Miraak are my Champions. I would see you live through the trials that are ahead of you.”

Reluctantly, she took the artifacts from the god. “I’m not going to thank you.” She said.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He smiled at her. “I must go. We will not speak again for some time. But I will part with a warning: Beware the Night. Beware the Shadowed Blade.”

The god vanished, no sign that he had been there except for the divine artifacts that Cara was now holding.

She stared at them. The immense power of the objects thrummed under her fingers.

“_Dii kest_, are you alright?” Miraak asked her.

She shook her head. “We just got told we were experiments by the gods. How could anyone be alright after that?”

“It is a thought I had after my talk with Auri-El in Solitude. I do not relish it, but I cannot complain.”

“How?” her brows knitted together in confusion.

“Because it brought me to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let cara say fuck 2k19 
> 
> Jokes aside this wasn't supposed to happen this chapter BUT IT DID so yeah. Tbh this is like the only kinda heavyish chapter I got planned for this. I hope I can post kinda regular??? We'll see how much homework wants to kill me. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! I live off comments and kudos! 
> 
> Come send me asks and questions or even just say hi over at my Tumblr!  
https://elventhief.tumblr.com/
> 
> The wonderful aureliu_s and I created a Writetober prompt list! Once October hits, I'll be doing that and writing on this while I have the time! (I'll be doing all Miraak and Cara stuff, and post that in a separate fic!) If you wanna participate, we have our own tag on Tumblr, #virthiefictober send me things! I want to read them!! 
> 
> Prustmun - Apprentice  
Kent hi gefaas sen? - Must you scare the boy?


	2. Qalos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cara trains, conversations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this took a hot minute, this week was hell. After this chapter this will probs be on hold for a hot bit? I might only have time to do Writetober stuff, which will be posted in this series and on my Tumblr, so keep an eye out for that! It's gonna be all Cara and Miraak-centric!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title translation: Touch

Cara actually loved the winter, as it meant that she could stay and work on her own studies, even if she did loathe the actual weather. In the days following Auri-El’s sudden appearance in the Hall of the Elements, and his ‘gifts’ to her, she and Miraak had been training with them, and she found that _that_ was how she was supposed to fight.

The weapon, as it wasn’t really a staff, was true to the god’s word. It would and could transform into any kind of weapon she needed or wanted. She had taken to keeping it as a dagger at her belt, to get used to the weight of it being there.

The shield, she thought was cumbersome at first, she couldn’t move, couldn’t do magic. But, she felt as if that it wasn’t _just_ a shield. She tried to channel her magic though it, and she discovered that if she casted a ward, the shield amplified it, creating a large dome around her and about a ten foot radius. It also, much like the Staff of Magnus, was summonable. While it was too large to be a ring, it was a golden cuff on her left wrist when she needed to be, freeing up her hand for magic and double-wielding her staff if she needed to as well. She thought she finally was making real progress with her combat skills.

True to his word months before, Miraak was teaching her arcane secrets and she was showing him the more domestic disciplines. Cara was surprised to see that he wasn’t that terrible a cook. She blamed his unwavering attention to detail.

Today, she was meditating as Miraak struggled with trying to darn a sock of hers she hadn’t had the time to do.

Well, she was trying to meditate. His quiet swearing in _dovahzul_ at the sock wasn’t letting her meditate much.

She heard him set the materials on the cluttered table. She really should clean that off.

Cara could feel his presence near her, but her breath caught when he spoke softly in her ear.

“I know you are not meditating, _dii kest_.”

Cara couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. Opening her eyes, he had moved to be in front of her, as she sat legs crossed on a desk chair. “It’s a bit hard to when you’re over there cursing my sock for existing.”

A smirk pulled at his lips, and he gently ran the ends of his index and middle finger along her jaw, gently tilting her head up to capture her lips in a kiss.

As long as she lived, Cara knew that she would never tire of him or his kisses.

He pulled away, rising to his full height, offering her a hand. Uncurling herself from the chair, she took it and stood, the Dragon Priest, pulling her close into his space. He looked at her for a moment, one hand intertwined with her own at their sides, the other splayed across her back. “Teach me Aldmeris.” He requested, his voice soft and low, his words only meant for her, even though they were alone.

His words surprised Cara, and she didn’t bother hiding her surprise.

She reached up and cupped his jaw, rubbing her thumb over his rough stubble. “Why?”

“I want to learn your first language. You know mine.”

Had anyone told her six months ago that Miraak, the First Dragonborn, would hold her close, and ask her to teach him her first language, so he could be closer to her, Cara would have scoffed and asked them if they needed healing, because they must have hit their head.

She smiled up at him. “I would love to teach you.”

Their lips met, Cara drinking in his presence, how her soul burned under his touch.

They soon parted, the need for air too great, before Miraak captured her lips once more, and again and again and again. Their movements became more urgent, Cara pulling on the front of his robes to try and pull him closer, Miraak holding her tight to him, the hand that was interlocked with hers coming to bury itself in her hair. Cara was reveling in it, in him, when he abruptly pulled away, gently separating them.

He looked and felt conflicted, though over what she didn’t know nor could tell.

“I- We have work we should be doing.” He said. He leaned down and lightly kissed her again, before leaving her there in their study, stunned and a little lightheaded.

* * *

The sound of metal clashing rang through the frozen courtyard, the air electrified by the buzz of magic. The First and Last were locked in battle, Miraak’s golden sword scraped down the side of Cara’s golden shield, her feet digging into the snow at the impact. Her vibrant violet eyes glittered with determination.

Their combat had one rule: no Shouts.

Miraak knew that if they could Shout, this would be a much more explosive fight, to the point where they would knock the College into the sea.

He parried a thrust from her spear, now in both her hands, the shield a shining cuff on her left wrist.

Miraak had the advantage in this fight, as spears were far more common when he walked Tamriel last, which gave her the advantage in any other fight. He was impressed with how much she had improved, and how she was on her way to mastering her weapon.

The sheer force of his next swing caught her off guard, and as she half-dodged, half-blocked the strike, she slipped in the snow, which sent her sprawling into the snow.

Cara scrambled up, but she couldn’t stand before Miraak gently touched his blade to her neck. “You lost, _dii kest_.”

Fire blazed in her eyes.

He saw the flash of light from her weapon, and he knew it had changed form, but he didn’t anticipate her deflecting the blade from her, nor how she reached out, grabbed his ankle, and _pulled_.

It was now his turn to go sprawling in the snow.

Cara crawled on top of him, her dagger poised where his sword had been just seconds before on her.

His sword was just inches from his grip, but he instead rested his hands on her hips, which was straddled around his middle.

“I don’t think I lost, my darling.” She smirked at him.

“So you think.”

In one fluid motion, he flipped them, disarming her in her confusion. He casually tossed the divine weapon aside in the snow.

“You can’t win this fight, _dii kest_, though try as you might.”

Miraak sat up on his knees, their positions reversed from before.

She was a vision, her cheeks red from the cold, her breath coming out in short, visible little puffs as she tried to catch her breath, her endlessly dark hair half-unbound from its braid and splayed on the snow around her. For not the first time, he was struck with her beauty, and now that he was unafraid to admit it to both her and himself, his love for her.

“I almost had you.” She shot at him.

A ghost of a smile tug at the corners of his lips. “You did surprise me. But I have far more combat experience than you.”

She sat up on her elbows. “And it doesn’t hurt that you can throw me around like I weigh nothing.”

He shrugged.

“Hey!” Teldryn called across the courtyard. “Would you two get a damned room? It’s the Courtyard for Azura’s sake!”

* * *

Cara stood, running a brush through her still damp post-bath hair, softly humming a tune. 

Miraak walked past her, toweling his wet hair. She set the ornate brush down on her dresser, crossing the few steps to his side, and rose on her toes to peck him on the cheek. He glanced down at her, his eyes soft.

“Can I braid your hair?” she asked.

A golden-blond eyebrow rose. “Can I ask why?”

Cara shrugged. “Because I love you, and I would like to.”

“Only if I get to return the sentiment.” A smile ghosted his lips.

A radiant smile lit up her face.

Miraak set the towel down, and Cara grabbed her brush, motioning him to sit at the edge of the bed.

Settling behind him on her knees, she gently brushed through his now-damp hair, and began to section it off, pausing in her motions a bit, the large, now fading circular scar on his back catching her attention.

Her work was methodical, soothing. She tied the ends off with leather ties, then sat back a little to admire her handiwork.

“There you are.”

Miraak had been very still, relishing in her fingers gently massaging his scalp. It had been eons since someone had braided his hair, his servants or _vahdin_ would usually do it for him. He relaxed at her words, his hand gently coming up to pat the style she gave him, in an effort to try and discern what it was she did. He rose from the bed, picking up the small handmirror Cara had given him.

It was simple, but elegant. Half up, half down, his hair was pulled back much like how he usually did, but small little braids accented it, the sides twisted into braids that joined with the rest of the hair and then braided down the back. It was something he could never do, and as much as he did care about his appearance, he usually just pulled his hair up out of his face.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I do. Though I look out of place with elven braids.”

“Nonsense. You look handsome.” He returned to the bedside, and they switched positions.

Miraak knew he would never tire of running his fingers though her silky dark hair.

“Is dark hair like yours common in High Elves?” he asked her.

He saw her shoulders stiffen for a fraction of a second.

“No.” she said quietly.

He could sense that she was uncomfortable with the question, and he let it drop. He combed and braided her hair in silence.

“I’ve always thought it was one reason why my father disliked me the most of my siblings.” She began. “He married into the Direnni’s, my mother’s family. A few generations back, so probably early to mid-Third Era, one of his ancestors married a Bosmer against her family’s wishes. All my other relatives on both my parents side are Altmer, but every once and a while, the dark hair or deeper skintone pops up. He always seemed ashamed of me, a reminder of his ‘unclean’ lineage.”

The priest shook his head in disgust. How could anyone hate their child for something they had no control over? How could anyone just hate their child for any reason at all?

“Lineage means nothing. I never knew my parents, but I was told they were pig farmers from Atmora. And yet I became First Mage. I am _Diist Dovahkiin_.”

She slightly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Lineage is all that matters for the nobles of Summerset. “That’s why the children of noble houses like mine are engaged not long after their first breath.”

He paused in his work.

“Including you?” he asked.

“I-“ she stopped herself. “I was, once. I very much don’t want to talk about it.”

Miraak saw how tense her shoulders were. He wanted to comfort her, to ask her what had happened, but he let it drop. He did not wish to cause her pain or dig up things long since buried.

He resumed braiding her hair in a traditional Atmoran style. 

The silence stretched on.

“As priests, we could not have spouses.” He said, breaking the tense silence that stretched on. “We were not to have relationships, though many kept _vahdin,_ either one or a few.”

“I’m afraid that word escapes me.”

He tried to think of the translation for her. “Concubines, I think you would call them.”

“Oh.”

“It was rather common, actually. And several kept their favorites for far longer than they should have. Vokun was reprimanded more than once about it. As was Krosis and Dukaan.”

“Were all the priests men?”

“_Niid_. Krosis, Volsung , and Nahkriin were women. Formidable as well. You would have liked Volsung, I think. She was a bit like you, though I did not know her well. She was a few decades older than I.”

“Did you have any _vahdin_?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual but failing at it.

He sighed. “Several, over a time.”

She let out a breath she was holding.

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“No, of course not. I just-“ she stopped herself again.

Miraak finished with her hair, and gently urged her to face him.

“But?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“About what?”

“About this, us. I haven’t a clue what to do, how to act really. How to do anything. New Life was the first time I had willingly kissed someone, and I’m over two hundred years old.”

Miraak studied her for a moment.

Her hair styled like that of an Atmoran beauty, her vibrant eyes wide and vulnerable.

“This, _you_ are far different than anything I’ve had experience with.”

“But at least you’ve _been_ with someone. Several someones.” She looked away from him, at the floor, her ears turning redder as the seconds ticked by.

Realization dawned on him. “_That_ is what you’re worried about?”

She stood and paced away from him, her arms coming to wrap around her middle.

“_Dii lovaas,_” he said as he stood. “You think I care about that?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “You act as if you’re afraid to touch me sometimes. I thought it was something I did.”

Miraak shook his head. “You’ve done nothing.”

“Then why?”

“I knew long before now that you are,” he paused, searching for the right word, “inexperienced. I pull away because I’m not going to pressure you, nor step over any boundaries that you set. I respect you far too much to do anything else.”

She nodded, still adverting her gaze from him.

He cupped her jaw, making her look at him. He leaned down, gently pressing his lips to hers, then rested his forehead on hers.

“I love you.” She whispered.

“_Zu lokaal hi.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man how about that good angst shit lmao  
Anyway, I'm gonna try and work on the next chapter while also doing writetober, which if you want to participate in, come on over to tumblr and check it out! #virthiefictober
> 
> Vahdin- concubine, a word the amazing aureliu_s came up with!  
Zu lokaal hi- I love you


	3. Smoliin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS THIS WAS HARD TO WRITE SO HERE IT IS LMAO
> 
> Okay so my ace ass has never written smut before so if this is bad I'm sorry
> 
> So yeah! smut chapter!!! there's tbh not gonna be much 'plot' that happens so if you're not into smut then sorry,,, no new chapter for you this time. I'll try and get chapter 4 out as soon as I can!!
> 
> Chapter title translation: Passion

The tension between the two of them could have been cut with a dull knife.

It permeated every room the both of them entered, to the point where Teldryn had pulled Cara aside one afternoon to ask her about it.

“What is going on between you and the giant eh?”

Confusion crosses Cara’s features. “What are you talking about?”

The dark elf sighed. “Well, me and the others have a bet to when you’re gonna snap and just start ripping clothes off, so either you’re bad at playing dumb or you just don’t want to talk about it.”

“You-“ she stopped. “There’s bets? You’ve placed _bets_?”

The other elf shrugged. “Nothing else really seems to happen around here.”

“Studies? Experiments? Things an actual College would do?”

“That’s not even half as interesting.”

Cara ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. “Please, just let us sort out our issues? Miraak will be far less kind about it if you go and pester him.”

Teldryn raised an eyebrow. “I mean I did tell him what he could get you last minute for your nameday and he nearly took my head off, so I can see your point there.”

Cara’s brows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”

“He came to me, trying to figure out what to give you for your nameday. So I suggested the only thing he had to give you at such short notice.”

Realization dawned on her. “You’re an absolute menace, Sero.”

“You’re the one that asked me to teach here, you know. Jokes aside though, we’re something of friends, yes? You two are so perfect for each other, so in love, it nearly makes my teeth ache with how sweet it is. Miraak is less of a pain in the ass to be around because of you, though for the life of me I can’t figure out how. You’re both good for each other.”

Cara softly smiled. “Thanks, Teldryn.”

* * *

“How did your classes go today?” Cara asked Miraak as they were getting ready for bed, she running a brush through her dark hair, he taking the braids she had done for him in the morning out and doing the same.

He sighed. “They learn. Slowly, but they learn.” He paused a moment. “One of them, the new _Prustmun,_ I think has finally figured it out.”

Cara paused in her brushing, an eyebrow raised. “Really? You think so?”

“I think he may not be a lost cause, after all.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you.”

“Perhaps.”

Silence filled their bedroom, and the tension their casual conversation had relaxed was back again in full force.

_“Dii lovaas-“_

“Miraak-“

They stopped, staring at each other. He motioned for her to go first.

She took a few tentative steps towards him. “I-“ she started. Mara help her, how should she approach this. “I love you, so much. And I-“ she broke eye contact, and instead stared at her wringing hands. “I want to be with you.”

The room was silent, and Cara was certain a dropped pin would have been like a thunderclap.

One of his larger hands gently took hers, his other coming to cup her jaw, silently asking her to look at him.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked, his voice deep but soft.

She nodded.

“_Brah hin rotte, dii lovaas_.” He rested his forehead against her own, his other hand coming up to cup the other side of her face.

“Yes.” She breathed.

He closed the distance between their lips, his kiss slow at first, but quickly gained in intensity, stealing all the air from her lungs.

He broke the kiss, giving her time to breathe, and scooped her up into his arms.

Cara clung to him, the change in position catching her off guard. Gently, he placed her on the bed, climbing onto the bed with her, bracing himself on his elbows, caging her in.

He ran his thumb over her cheek. “If you want to stop, you tell me.”

She nodded again. “I will.”

Their lips met once again, gentle, but dominating. She let him take the lead, unsure in her actions. Cara gripped his loose shirt as his free hand came down to grip her hip, pulling her closer to him. She felt his hand shift , gently sliding up under her shirt, his warm, rough hand coming to rest on her bare skin just above her hip. She shivered slightly, the man was like a furnace.

He broke the kiss, and Cara could feel him smile against her lips. “How is it that you are always cold all the time?” he mumbled.

“How are you so warm all the time?” she let out a breathy laugh. He pulled back a little to look at her.

“Atmorans are warmer so we can survive the harsh climate better.” He leaned in, capturing her lips again. “And so I can keep you warm, it seems.” He added between kisses, a smirk playing at his lips.

His lips left hers again, this time trailing down her jaw, up to her ear and-

Cara couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips when she felt his teeth scrape the outer shell of her ear, her hand shooting up and clamping over her mouth.

Miraak pulled back, surprise on his face, which quickly melted into a wicked grin.

“What was that, _dii kest_?”

Her cheeks were burning hot. He gently took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth. “There’s no need for that,” he leaned in close to her ear again “I want to hear you.” His voice made her shutter.

Mara’s mercy, what had she got herself into?

He trailed kisses down her throat, her collarbone, shoulder, anywhere he could get ahold of with her shirt in the way, and through her haze and the scorching sensation of his touch, of his _dovah_, she felt him get annoyed, likely she suspected, at her shirt.

Cara pushed against him a little to let him give her some space, and before she lost her confidence, she pulled the material up and over her head.

Miraak paused in all his movements, and when he just, _stared at her_, she brought her arms up to cover her chest. He stopped her, his grey-blue eyes meeting her own. “_Hi los tozeinvu._” He whispered, his voice no more than a breath.

Cara leaned back again, Miraak following her, and continued to trail feather-light kisses across her chest and stomach, this time not stopping the small little sounds she was making, gasping when his mouth found her breasts, her hands coming to tangle in his long hair.

He stopped when he reached her trousers, his eyes flicking up to her own. “We can stop here, _dii lovaas, _if you wish.”

“No! Keep going, I just-“ she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m just nervous.”

He moved back up, and captured her lips in a surprisingly chaste kiss, resting their foreheads together. “I know. You have nothing to be nervous about, Cara. Let me take care of you.”

“I trust you, with my life. I love you.”

“_Zu lokaal hi_.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips once more.

She shimmied out of her trousers and her underclothes, she felt her blush deepen, and looked away from him, unsure what to do or how to act.

Miraak returned to where he had been before, only this time trailing kisses across her thighs, before he hooked her legs over his shoulders.

“What-“ Her words were cut off by a loud moan as he settled between her legs, her fingers tangling into his locks and holding him there.

Her mind was everywhere and no where at once, she was trying to focus on breathing, on his mouth and fingers in her, on his hands holding her steady as she bucked into him, of the coil that was tightening in her stomach.

It could have been hours, minutes, _days_ before that coil finally snapped, waves of pleasure washing over her, leaving her gasping for breath.

Miraak slowly guided her down from her high, pressing a few lingering kisses to her thighs and navel, before sitting up.

He let her gather her bearings, offering her his hand so she could also sit up. When he wrapped an arm around her waist, beckoning her to straddle his waist, she did, albeit on unsteady legs.

“Do you want to continue?” he asked her, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

“Y-yes.”

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “It will hurt at first, far more than if I was a Nord, though I will be as gentle as I can.”

She cupped his jaw. “I’m not a delicate flower, my darling. I’ll be fine. I want this with you.” She kissed him softly.

He picked her up off his lap, setting her back on the bed before standing, taking his shirt off, his trousers and underclothes following the garment on the floor. Cara kept her eyes on his, though her eyes flickered down to his waist for a second. She felt her face heat up again.

A finger came under her chin, a smirk on his lips. “I love it when you blush.”

His smirk grew when her blush deepened.

He sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning her to sit as they were before, her straddled across his lap. Miraak held her hips steady. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

He pushed in slowly, Cara’s grip on his shoulders tightening as she hissed at the intrusion. The warm tendrils of healing magic, his, she realized soon washed over her, trying to dampen if not take her pain away entirely.

The discomfort was there, but she knew it wasn’t near as bad as it could have been. She pressed a kiss to his jaw as a thanks, willing her body to relax.

Every muscle in his body was taut like a bowstring, and Cara knew it was taking everything he had to be as slow and gentle as he was.

Soon, he was fully seated inside her, and he let out shaky breath. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath.

He let her adjust, his magic slowly trailing off. She shifted ever so slightly, and a deep grumble reverberated through his chest, his hands coming to her waist.

“I think I’m fine, you can move.” She breathed.

He started rocking, slowly at first, but picked up speed.

Miraak held her tight to him, Cara finding purchase on his broad shoulders. He growled when she accidentally scraped her nails across one of his shoulders, so she did it again.

This time, it was nothing like it was before. Her skin was on _fire_. Both their dragon souls trying to claw their way out of their skin, every touch was heightened, every place their skin made contact made her mind reel.

The coil was back, far more intense. She gasped and moaned his name, and while before his voice sent shivers down her spine, the way he was alternating growling and moaning her name in that deep baritone of his was sending her over the edge, fast.

His pace stuttered, but Cara soon found herself tumbling over the edge anyway, her release sending him over as well, a moaned curse on his lips as he finished.

They stayed like that for a few moments catching their breath, trading lazy kisses, their foreheads resting together. Finally, though she didn’t want him to, he lifted her off him, and laid her down on the bed, exhaustion creeping into her bones. He left her, and through a half-asleep mind she was aware of him cleaning her up, before he settled into the bed next to her, pulling her up to lay on his chest.

She gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. “I love you.”

When he didn’t respond, she assumed he fell asleep, but a large hand came to rest at the base of her spine, gently caressing her skin.

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brah hin rotte- use your words  
Hi los tozeinvu- You're perfect


	4. Feyl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title translation: Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yall are getting two (maybe three) chapters today as an 'im sorry ive been gone for like a month'
> 
> also this is short my b it wasnt ever gonna be a longer chapter
> 
> enjoy!

Miraak woke with a weight on him, and something soft tickling his face.

He shifted lightly and opened his eyes, inky black hair covering most of his face. He brushed it out of his face, and glanced down at the sleeping form that rested on his chest.

Gently, he brushed her hair out of her face, then ghosted his fingers down her spine.

She stirred, slowly opening her eyes, quickly finding his.

“Morning.” She said, a smile on her lips. She leaned up and caught his lips in a lazy kiss.

“Morning,” he said, returning her kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but happy.”

He let tendrils of restoration magic wash over her. “You don’t have to do that, but thank you.” She kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I said I’d take care of you, and I meant it.” he murmured.

She shifted again, lifting off of him and rolling to his side, but he caught her, keeping her to his chest.

A huff escaped her. “We need to get up.”

“No.”

“We have classes to teach this afternoon.”

“That’s this afternoon, not now.”

“I have things I need to do.”

“No.”

“We can take a bath together?”

He hummed. “Very well.”

* * *

It was later that she thought it was, especially after they both got out of the bath.

Miraak was in the kitchen, cooking them something quick for a midday meal, while Cara worked on the potion she was brewing. She was going to have to brew quite a few doses, she suspected.

Miraak came up behind her, resting his chin on her head, an arm encircling her waist.

This was new.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Mixing something.” The potion was done, and Cara scooped out a small vial and tipped it back, the taste bitter in her mouth.

He turned her in his arms, a curious expression on his face.

She stared at him expectantly. He was smart. He’d get it.

Realization dawned on him. “Ah, I see.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Lunch is ready.”

They ate in a relative silence, when Cara spoke up.

“Have you ever-“ she paused. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“It’s foolish, don’t worry about it.”

“_Dii kest,_ tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I know you said priests couldn’t marry, so I assume that also means you couldn’t have a family.”

“Yes. But I am no longer a priest.”

She met his gaze. “And?”

He took a breath and leaned back in his seat across the small table. “I never saw myself with a partner, married, children. It was never something I had any desire for, because I knew it was unobtainable.” Cara let out a breath, her shoulders dropping, trying not to let any disappointment show on her face. “But,” he continued, “Much has changed. I find myself with you, and suddenly the rest seems… not out of reach.”

“Really?”

“I do not think I’d be a good father, but yes. It is not out of the realm of possibility, one day.”

“I think you’d make a wonderful father, if it means anything.”

“You want children, one day then?”

Cara thought for a moment. “Yes. I’ve always wanted them but for the longest time it was an idea that terrified me. I said I was engaged once?” he nodded. “The thought of having children in a loveless marriage, like my parents, I couldn’t have that life. For me or them.”

He stared at her for a long moment, Cara averting her eyes to a knot in the wood on the table.

“You won’t ever have to worry about that again. Your life is your own.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Which is why now it doesn’t terrify me like it did.”

A smile ghosted his lips. “Perhaps one day we can revisit this conversation?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”


	5. Fille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend arrives, a party is thrown, and Cara notices something odd.  
Chapter title translation: Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so damn long,, and the chapter isn't that long. Since I last updated there's been,,, so much that's happened. Plus netflix Witcher came out and got my back on my hyperfixation bullshit and I've been replaying Witcher and sorta lost interest in TES, which I will now try to balance with Miraak and Cara, because I love these two so much and I want to have their story told. With everything that's been going on,, I'm literally stuck in my house until this is all over (it aint easy being wheezy folks lol). Jokes aside, as that's like the only thing we can do to stay sane rn, I hope everyone stays safe and is smart about this. But! aside from finishing my last few classes (and praying to the divines that my last on ground machine knitting class doesnt get canceled this summer,,, I WANT MY DEGREE PLS) I should have a lot of spare time to work on the next fic!! Already got it planned and everything!! 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Spring was approaching fast, and the College was giddy with the prospect of some of the eternal snow melting, even just a little.

Sahrotaar had found his way to the College a few weeks ago, and the serpentine dragon had decided to roost on a nearby mountain top, not terribly far from where Odahviing liked to call home.

When the blue-green dragon appeared late one afternoon, after having flown from Solstheim and nearly all over the province, seeking Miraak but taking his time to stretch his wings once more under the sun and out from Mora’s shadow, Miraak was the happiest she had seen him in a while, even cracking a smile as he greeted one of his oldest friends, which the dragon was rather surprised by the First Dragonborn’s behavior.

Cara liked the dragon, his scales odd under her fingertips, reminding her more of the smooth lizards that would hide in the flowers and dart under bushes in her family’s gardens on Alinor.

Miraak had actually found he enjoyed teaching the Apprentice, though many of the senior mages would also sit in on his lectures, fascinated by his in-depth knowledge of Atmora, of the Dragon Cult, and how ancient Skyrim was before the Nords came to be.

When not teaching, Miraak would help Cara train, and he was certain she would master her weapon in a few short years, likely better than he was with a blade, even.

One afternoon, he found himself observing her in the Hall of the Elements, running through her drills.

Her footwork was getting better, and he could tell the subtle changes in her body since she started training. She was far stronger, now. Even from when they first started training, to now, he was fairly certain she could hurt him if she threw a punch at him. It was curious, he thought, how her body seemed to hold its muscle, in compared to his. She was lithe, not really changing visually but being far more toned. She wasn’t as soft as she had been. Now when he would hold her, her endlessly soft skin concealed the hardened steel underneath.

He was so proud of her. He wouldn’t say it out loud, he knew she didn’t need his approval. She could sense it, how his chest swelled with pride every time she beat Teldryn into the snow, of when she outwitted even him in the midst of sparring. She was an exceptional student, learning quickly and precisely. He understood how and why she was as powerful with her magic as she was, despite her insistence that she never did a terrible amount of fighting until she came to Skyrim.

She moved against her phantom foes, dancing around them with a certain air of grace and poise he knew that the Atmoran’s would envy. It wasn’t something he taught her, so he wondered where she picked that up from.

She stopped, apparently done with her exercises for the day.

Miraak stood straight, walking towards her away from the stone pillar he had been leaning against.

“Where did you learn to move like that?” he asked her.

Her spear flashed, and then became a dagger she then tucked into her belt, as per usual. “It just seems more natural than some of those clunkier movements.” She explained. “The way you’ve taught me seems to be more accommodating for someone of your size. That and women have a lower sense of gravity so I’ve had to make adjustments.”

A light blond brow rose.

“I can throw my weight around a lot easier than you can.”

With someone that had no experience with using a weapon before he began to train her, how she instinctually picked up and changed her movements, and how she fought impressed him. Whether it was her dragon blood or just her innate sense of intuition, he wasn’t sure of.

In all his readings he’d come across, it seemed as if all the _Dovahkiin_ had some innate sense of battle, with weapons or strategy, they just seemed to excel at the art of war. With her aversion to weapons, he thought that Auri-El’s grand scheme of making her different from all the others perhaps effected this aspect as well, but it seems he was wrong. She had just as much martial prowess as any of the _Dovahkiin_ that came before her, himself included.

“Perhaps we can put these new ideas of yours to use.”

She smiled at him, and slightly cocked one hip out to the side, crossing her arms.

“I would love to, but the others are throwing a small party for Onmund, it’s his nameday today. I need to go wash up beforehand.”

“You have fun then.”

She took his hand. “You should come too. I know you’re not big on people but I know it would mean a lot to the others.”

“I don’t want to spoil the evening.”

“You wont’t. The others think of you as if you’re been here for years. Besides, we’ve all been working hard these last few weeks. It’d be good for all of us to get together, laugh, share a few drinks and tell stories. You tell the best ones.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

He nodded slightly. “Very well, I’ll join the festivities.”

* * *

An arm was thrown around her shoulders.

“Lemmie tell you something, my dearest Carawen.” Teldryn slurred, resting his head on her shoulder.

Cara laughed. “You’re drunk, Teldryn.”

“Eh, the boy challenged me and he lost.” He gestured to Onmund, who currently had Brelyna trying to get him to drink some kind of potion, one that would likely help him recover from being blackout drunk faster.

“You should have at least let him win, it is his nameday after all.” The Altmer teased.

“He should learn early to not challenge a mercenary to a drinking match, _esspeciaaally_ if they’re a Dunmer, our liquor makes this Nordic swill look like milk. But that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to tell you about how….fucking lucky you are getting that man right there.” He vaguely gestured to Miraak, who was across the Hall of the Elements, speaking to Urag.

“I beg your pardon?” Cara asked.

“I mean _look_ at those shoulders, I bet he could rip a log in half with those biceps. Bet he could rip me in half, am I right?”

Cara took his arm off her shoulders and took a step back, surprise on her face but a smile as well.

“Well, Teldryn, I didn’t know you had a thing for him.”

“I mean, who _wouldn’t_. But no worries, I know he’s all yours.”

The mercenary sauntered off after that, returning to the table the rest of the Apprentices had gathered at. Cara shook her head and made her way over to Miraak, stopping to speak to a few of the other Masters along the way. 

“What did the _Sovrahzun_ want? He’s clearly drunk.” He asked.

Cara giggled. “And it’s because he’s drunk, I ask you don’t tease him relentlessly about it.”

Miraak looked down at her, a brow quirked, a smirk on his face. “Is it that bad?”

“He said ‘with those shoulders and biceps, I bet he could rip me in half’.”

Miraak let out a guffaw, much to the surprise of several around them. “He’s not the first to ask, nor to wonder, _dii kest_. I won’t hold it over him. For long.”

“You’re terrible, teasing him like that.”

The Atmoran leaned down, his voice low. “Would you rather I tease you instead, _dii lovaas_?”

Cara took a small step away from him, heat rising to her cheeks. “You know that’s not fair.”

He straightened, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s very fair, actually.”

“Archmage!” one of the Apprentices called, drawing their attention away from one another.

* * *

It was early in the morning, and several of the younger Apprentices were still in the Hall, playing cards, drinking, and having fun, and many of the others had already returned to their quarters, Miraak and Cara included.

The College was rather warm, and the temperature outside was starting to warm as well, though it was still bitter cold to the Altmer.

The Dragonborns decided to take a short stroll on the roof for some fresh air, when Cara noticed something.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Is it just me, or does it seem like there’s not as many stars as there should be?”

“It’s probably just cloudy.”

She squinted. “No, look. There really aren’t any stars out.”

The Atmoran looked up at the sky for a moment, taking it in. She was right, the stars were… mostly gone.

How was the even possible?

“That’s, that’s not possible, for the stars to go out like that.”

“What do you think it is?”

He was at a loss for words. “I have no idea, but it can’t be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks so after this, in chronological order, is a fic called The Blue Star Break, I'm kinda writing with the amazing aureliu_s! It's not complete at the time this has been published, but it technically goes in between Felniir and the next long fic!
> 
> You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533046/chapters/48735854
> 
> Thank you all that read and enjoyed this, thanks for sticking around!!! Until next time!!


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